


Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright:  Another Scene Expansion

by Witchy1ness



Category: Layton Kyouju vs Gyakuten Saiban | Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
Genre: Game Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy1ness/pseuds/Witchy1ness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scene from the game where Inquisitor Barnham flashbacks to how he met Constantine in story format.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright:  Another Scene Expansion

**Author's Note:**

> Professor Layton and all related characters are the property of Level-5, and Phoenix Wright and all those related characters belong to Capcom. All italicized text (bold and not) is taken directly from the game, and not mine either! Sentences in non-italicized bold denote original thoughts.
> 
> This story unfolded as I was watching the scene, and I damn near couldn't get it on paper fast enough lol. 
> 
> Written in 2016.
> 
> Reviews and constructive criticism welcome, flames will be ignored.

Ex-Inquisitor Zacharias Barnham crossed his arms and frowned as he studied the table in front of him with an intensity formerly reserved for questioning those brought up on charges of witchcraft. _“One puzzle means…one more step on the path to puzzle mastery…”_ he murmured, only vaguely aware of speaking aloud. His concentration was broken by a feminine snort coming from beside him.

_“Well, I hope you have some comfy shoes ready…because at this rate, you’re gonna be walking that path forever.”_

Barnham tore his gaze from the table to look at the redhead standing next to him with her arms crossed. 

She smirked up at him. 

Barnham shook his head at the challenge, _“Hmph…the fiercer the adversary, the better, I assure you. That is why… “_ -he drew his blade, causing the tavern owner to draw her dagger in response - _“…no matter how foolishly difficult this infernal “More Chalices!” may be, it WILL be solved by the hand of Barnham!”_

Rouge kept smirking at him, even as she waggled her dagger mockingly in his direction. _“You sure about that?”_ she taunted. _“It looks to me like the hand of Barnham could use a hand of its own right about now, Zacky-boy!”_

The slightest tinge of sheepishness crossed the knight’s face. _“Tell me, Rouge, how many chalices have I **broken** since starting this puzzle three nights ago?”_

The woman rolled her eyes as she huffed out a laugh, dagger now dangling nonchalantly from her hand. _“Heh. Let’s just say, if you take any longer…I’ll be having to serve my customers juice out of their own hats.”_

Barnham winced, internally deciding to admit defeat for the evening. Sheathing his sword, he became aware that the tavern – while still empty but for himself and its owner - was quieter than when he’d initially sought refuge earlier in the evening. _“…Well, I should make my way back. It seems the storm outside has subsided.”_

Rouge hummed agreement as she crossed her arms in the same smooth motion used to sheathe her dagger. 

Turning to gather his cloak from a nearby chair, Barnham was caught off-guard when the tavern owner murmured, _“A stormy night like this…”_ lightning chose that moment to flash, followed soon after by a lazy rumble of thunder, _“… really brings back memories, doesn’t it, Zack? Like the time you first set foot into this very tavern…It was a dark and stormy night just like this one.”_

Barnham could only stare at her in surprise, though Rouge didn’t seem to notice his attention. 

The woman’s gaze was soft and unfocussed, and the knight felt his lips turn up as he was swept up in the remembrance. _“……..indeed, it was.”_

Rouge seemed to come back to herself, blinking and shaking her head as she uncrossed her arms and leaned on a nearby table. She chuckled, _“Heh. I remember you walked through that door soggier than a rat in a river…”_

 

FLASHBACK

 

Rouge muttered dire imprecations under her breath as she strode out of her room, the incessant pounding on the tavern’s door increasing her ire with every step. The storm that had been threatening all day had hit with a vengeance just as she’d shooed her last regular out the door. She’d been looking forward to holing up in her warm, dry bed, and had initially mistaken the sounds for thunder. 

Her boot had just hit the bottom step when she heard a male voice call out imperiously, _“…Open the door! Hurry!”_

She scowled and hollered back, _“Hold your horses, I’m coming…”_

It took only a moment to lift the heavy bar that latched the tavern’s door closed, but she had to dance backwards quickly when the door swung open faster than she’d expected. She only got a glimpse of a dark cloak before the man rushed in, pushing the door closed with one gauntleted hand. Her eyes narrowed, and one hand drifted down to hover uneasily above the dagger sheathed at her right hip. 

_“Tavern’s closed, you know,”_ she said conversationally. _“You’re lucky I’m even opening the door in this storm.”_

The man turned around, and Rouge felt her eyes widen as he peeled back his soaked hood, revealing sodden red hair and eyes as grey as the storm clouds outside. She took an instinctive step back, body tensing in alarm. _“You…aren’t you…Zacharias Barnham?”_

The Captain of the Knights of the Inquisition nodded, but made no attempt to move away from the door, and Rouge could feel her heartbeat slow as she took in his – deliberately? – non-threatening manner.

_“Please, I require your aid for just a moment.”_

Rouge felt her eyebrows shoot up. **Well now** , she thought, **no wonder all the silly little twits in town were making fools of themselves over him. Looking as he does, and with a voice like that…..** She shook her head abruptly, striving for her typical nonchalance.

 _“Well, well…what aid could THE captain of the knights need from a lowly tavern owner like me?”_ She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. _“If you think for a second I’m going to sell out whatever bandit you’re after, then you’ve got another thing coming.”_ Her raised voice caused something in the folds of the knight’s cloak to wriggle and yelp, and a grey blur suddenly darted out from by the man’s feet and shot under a nearby table. 

Rouge nearly let out a yelp of her own, hand going to her dagger, but the Inquisitor moved towards her, hands raised palm-forward. 

_“Please…they are after us. I ask for but a moment’s shelter.”_

Rouge cocked her head, _**“After you…?”**_

With his arms out, the folds of his sodden cloak fell back, and she could see that the knight’s normally pristine armour had taken a bit of a beating. He was solidly muddy up to his knees, and mud, scratches and scrapes littered the rest of him. There were even twigs caught here and there in the nooks of his suit.

He sighed, _“Surely you have heard word of the recent witch sighting at the farm on the outskirts of town, have you not?”_

Rouge nodded grudgingly, _“Who hasn’t? Word is that witch did quite a number on the farm’s chickens and crops. I heard you guys tried to put up a fence to keep ‘em out.”_ Her eyes flicked to the table under which the grey blur had darted. _“A lot of good that did, huh?”_

The Inquisitor seemed to take her manner as permission, and sank into a chair at the table next to the one the…whatever…had shot under, sighing, _“There were no traces of footprints at the scene. ‘Twas surely a witch’s handiwork.”_

Rouge crossed her arms and leaned against a support post, keeping her back to something solid and keeping the tables the knight was at and the one the thing had shot under in her line of sight. She wasn’t quite ready to let her guard down, regardless of how personable the Inquisitor seemed. **Oh I’d just bet he’s Mr Tall-Nice-and-Handsome alright; right up until he drags me in front of the judge for being a witch.**

Rouge deliberately didn’t look at the ominously quiet table on her left, choosing instead to level a sharp look at the knight. _“So? Shouldn’t you be out there hunting down this supposed witch?”_

Barnham raised a finger, grimacing as a brief stream of muddy water flowed out of his gauntlet, _“That is correct…And so, tonight I finally managed to capture the **culprit**.”_

**Oh, this outta be good.**

She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, _“You caught the culprit…?”_

Barnham’s finger sliced around until it was pointing to the table the…thing…had darted under. _“Yes. This fiend right here…”_

Rouge felt her eyebrows jump as the dark space beneath the table suddenly growled. 

The Inquisitor’s eyes rolled upwards, and his tone was deadpan, _“I give you…our “witch”. The beast cannot be more than a year old.”_

Rouge could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she tilted her head to get a look at the ‘beast’ beneath her table. _“My, my…he’s certainly the tiniest “criminal” I’ve ever seen.”_

 _“Quite,”_ Barnham said dryly. _“Every day, this beast has been getting itself into trouble. Honestly…No one would’ve ever suspected this pup could be the one behind those missing chickens.”_

Rouge nodded absently, attention distracted by another matter entirely. The dog itself seemed to be rather small – the kind Cutter always loudly decried as ‘ankle-biters’ – and was a dirty grey that may or may not have been due to running around in the rain and mud; not to mention…

_“…By the way, I’ve gotta ask: what’s up with that **helmet**?”_ She found herself oddly – nearly hysterically – fascinated with the sight. Of course, she’d seen children running around pretending to be knights and wearing cheap imitations, but never a dog….! 

The Inquisitor’s voice was ever-so-slightly defensive when he answered, _“…I put it on him a short while ago. ‘Tis a toy helmet I just happened to have lying around.”_

**Just happened to have lying around, ay? Well, considering how often the children seem to flock to him after the parades, maybe it’s not such a far-fetched idea after all.**

Rouge straightened up, turning back to the Inquisitor and crossing her arms. _“Let me see if I’m barking up the right tree…This little guy here would hide in the bushes and attack any passing dogs or kids?”_

Barnham nodded, _“Indeed.”_

Rouge uncrossed her arms as her brow wrinkled in puzzlement, _“…Okay, but there were a LOT of chickens and crops that went missing from that farm. Why on earth would this little guy go and take so many? If he was planning on eating them, you’d think one chicken would be more than enough for ‘im.”_

Something seemed to flicker in the man’s eyes, but it was gone before she could identify it. _“Yes…The beast is still a mere whelp. Every battle is, for him, a terrifying battle of **life or death**. Until now, the source of the disappearing chickens was a mystery. However, tonight our little friend here made a grave **error**.”_

Rouge re-crossed her arms and leaned back against the post. _“What kind of error?”_

Barnham leaned back in his chair, not entirely able to suppress a wince, _“There was a group of townspeople patrolling the **crime scene** during the storm tonight.”_

Rouge’s hand drifted to tap absentmindedly on the pommel of her dagger. _“They were under the assumption that the culprit was a witch. Something tells me the pup’s little trick didn’t go as planned.”_

Barnham nodded, _“Yet…he went through with his trick and ended up biting off more than he could chew…so to speak. The townspeople were hungry for a culprit to capture and chased after the mutt. He was thus forced to escape into the forest. He managed to lose them in the forest….With the exception of one.”_

Rouge readjusted her arms across her chest as she intoned, _“And let me guess…That “one” was one Zacharias Barnham, right?”_

A sincere smile spread across the Inquisitor’s face, so unexpected that Rouge could only stare at him in bemusement. _“He truly put forth a valiant effort…Quite clever for the beast that he is.”_

Rouge couldn’t help but chuckle as she imagined the chase in her mind’s eye. No wonder Barnham was looking so…un-Inquisitor-like. _“The little guy must have been scared stiff, what with all that armour clattering around after him.”_

The dog loosed a few more barks, but remained under the table where he’d taken refuge. 

**Not** , Rouge snorted to herself suddenly, **that he’s the first male to find safety under there.** The thought made her grin, and she nearly missed as Barnham continued to speak.

 _“I chased him through the forest, before finally…he grew tired and stopped to rest in a clearing deep within the forest…’Twas the beast’s home.”_

Rouge shook her head. _“So you ended up smack dab in the middle of “enemy territory”. Sounds like an impasse if I ever saw one. So, what then? The **chase** was over. Why didn’t you just hand the pup over to the townsfolk?”_

The man fell silent, gaze locked on the tiny pup cowering under the table. When he spoke, all traces of humour had vanished from his voice. _“That was not an option.”_

Tired of standing, Rouge grabbed a chair from the pup’s table – ignoring the growl she got in return – and straddled it backwards, crossing her arms on the chair’s back. _“And why’s that?”_

_“It was because…of what I saw there deep within the recesses of that forest. “_

Rouge tilted her head but said nothing, watching as the knight’s eyes lost focus, obviously replaying whatever he’d seen earlier. 

_“I saw…the chickens the beast had taken. His **prey** was left in a large pile. And yet…there was no hint that he had actually eaten any of them.“_

Rouge frowned in confusion, shifting her arms as she darted another look at the pup. _“Wh-what do you mean?”_

She wasn’t sure whether or not the man heard her, but he continued, _“Curled up among this mountain of chickens, lay a much larger dog…It was readily apparent that the beast was already dead.”_

An oath slipped out before she could stop herself, but the Inquisitor kept talking, _“This little one here nestled itself against the larger beast, yet there was no response. I could but gaze upon this whelp in silent admiration for his efforts…”_

As if knowing they were talking about it – him? – the pup growled again.

_“I distinctly remember the larger one’s appearance…It had a scar above its left eye, a tail that looked as if it were singed by the Legendary Fire itself, and black and white coloured fur.”_

Barnham fell silent, and Rouge could feel a coil of apprehension begin to twist in her stomach. The tension that settled in the room kept her from speaking, though she shifted uneasily on her chair. Rouge had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what came next. 

_“I…knew that beast.”_

She startled, _“You did…?”_

The Inquisitor’s gaze dropped to his hands, dangling listlessly between his knees. When he spoke again, his voice was halting, _“We had met once before…in town, not a few days prior…I was at the head of the Storyteller’s parade. That’s when…suddenly a large dog jumped in front of me. It had been chasing the chickens at the farm nearby when it shot forth from the alley…I was caught completely off guard. My horse instantly reeled back in panic, but sadly I was unable to calm it…I failed to keep hold of the reins…There was naught I could do and so I was thrust from my horse.”_

Rouge blinked as a sudden memory surfaced, _“…Oh, I get it now. That must’ve been the famous **Barnham’s Wild Ride** incident everyone loves talking about. Heard you were dragged all over town. Don’t seem any worse for wear, though. You’re definitely now the stuff of **legends**.”_

_“Unfortunately, the dog that ran into the parade was much more “worse for wear”.”_

Dread joined apprehension in her gut as her mind put together the likely conclusion of this story. 

Barnham’s hands gripped each other so tightly Rouge half-feared the metal of his gauntlets would be deformed. Where he previously sounded like she imagined he would while giving a report to the High Inquisitor, now his voice had turned anguished. _“In the chaos that followed, the beast was caught under my horse, trampled and kicked aside. Somehow it managed to drag itself upright…It then limped its way back to the alley and disappeared.”_ He grimaced. _“At least, that is what I was told, much later. I was rather…preoccupied at the time.”_

Rouge bit back the quip she wanted to make, saying instead, _“…Unbelievable. So you mean…”_

Barnham nodded jerkily. _“Indeed. The dead dog in the forest was the very same dog from the parade. There is no mistake…The beast was **mortally wounded** at that parade.”_

Rouge stared at the pup under the table, pity making an unwelcome lump in her throat. _“A-all right, so…What about the pup?”_

The Inquisitor shrugged one shoulder, spreading his hands, _“‘Tis only an assumption, but…perhaps this little one is the beast’s offspring.”_

Rouge frowned and crossed her arms as she thought. The knight’s comment made sense…she was distracted from her musings when the man continued speaking, though from the distant look in his eyes she wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear him. 

_“…Since that day. This little one, despite his small stature and fear, would face prey much bigger than himself. When his strength failed him and he could no longer move, he would escape into the forest. All this for the sake of his mother. Day after day…never once realising that his mother had long since uttered her last breath…”_

The pup, which had subsided somewhat during the course of the Inquisitor’s narration, began growling louder again.

Rouge darted a glance back under the table, but the Inquisitor didn’t even seem to notice as he continued to speak, face angled towards the pup. There was a desperate note to his voice now, as if he was pleading for the pup to understand. _“…If only I had not fallen from my horse…If only I had been able to take control…”_ Barnham’s fists clenched spasmodically in his lap as he hung his head, despair written into every line of his body. _“How can I call myself **captain of the knights** , when I was the one who robbed this little one of his mother?”_

Rouge remained silent, unable to say – or even think of – anything. 

_“I think…this little one was there to witness what I did to his mother. He must be quite aware of my **actions** that day.”_ He lifted his head, and Rouge was shocked to see the sheen of tears in his eyes. It took a moment for his last sentence to parse through her stunned mind, and she instinctively crossed her arms as she asked him, _“…What do you mean?”_

The pup continued growling, adding a rather squeaky bark every once in a while.

_“While he may still be young, and his stature small…this dog is a true **knight** of the highest calibre. He protects that which needs protecting. And…will ready his fangs at but a moment’s notice for many a just cause….That is why I could not simply hand this most valiant **knight** over to the townsfolk.”_

It was too much, and Rouge stood and began to pace, finally coming to a stop and planting her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head, not even sure where to begin.

Barnham’s voice grew a little less desperate as he asked, _“As we speak, they are braving the storm in search of him. However, they will likely give up before too long. I ask you, please keep this little one safe here…I beg of you.”_

Rouge let out a long sigh and crossed her arms, leaning once more against the post. _“…………What exactly do you plan on doing with the pup?”_

A spark flashed in the Inquisitor’s eyes as he straightened up and slashed an arm through the air commandingly, _“This brave little knight stood valiantly in the face of insurmountable odds, all for the sake of protecting one close to him. As such, I will first assign him a most noble **name** befitting once of such valour. Then…I will personally see to it that he is welcomed into the Knights of the Inquisition.”_

This was apparently too much for the pup, who darted out from under the table, barking furiously. Rouge couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her when the dog, eventually done upbraiding the knight, dashed over to hover just out of arm’s reach beside her. 

_“…Hmph. From where I’m standing, it really doesn’t look like this little guy is all too thrilled with you and your plans.”_

Barnham looked uncertain as he shifted in his seat, eyes locked on the dog. _“I-it would appear so, but…”_

But the knight’s movements seemed to just aggravate the already agitated dog, and before Rouge could blink, the little thing had jumped on him. 

_“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!”_

Rouge winced at the resulting deafening clatter as Barnham tried to avoid the dog and fell off his chair in the attempt. The din from his armour hitting the wooden floor, combined with the yapping and growling of the dog was enough to make her throw her hands in the air before settling them on her hips.

 _“No doubt about it…He doesn’t like you one bit.”_ She sighed and crossed her arms, _“…That’s what **little guys** like this do. They bite.”_

The dog dashed back under the table as Barnham got laboriously back onto his feet. Watching him, the tavern owner felt a brief stab of amused pity. It would seem that in incidents involving Sir Barnham and animals, it was the knight that came out the worse. The way the man was moving indicated that perhaps he hadn’t come out unscathed from his Wild Ride after all; not to mention how his right gauntlet was now sporting a brand new bite mark. 

The knight winced and took a careful breath as he straightened up, _“U-urgh… ‘Twas my error!”_

Rouge popped her hands back onto her hips as she chided him, _“Oh, c’mon now. You’re not even bleeding, you big baby.”_ She started laughing, _“The big bad knight captain…bitten by a cute little pup, like some kind of chew toy. Not the most “manly” of stories.”_

Barnham slashed his arm through the air as he declared, _“…Nonsense! It was an honour to be chewed on by such an admirable creature.”_

Rouge could only shake her head.

**Men.**

 _“Heh. Ever the fast-talker, eh, Mr Knight Captain?”_ She relaxed, only then noticing the trickle of blood from just above his left eye. _“Look, gimme a minute and I’ll get you patched up in no time. Until then…how about you keep yourself entertained with this little puzzle I came up with…”_ She drew her dagger and spun, making the startled knight draw his sword in reflex.

 _“Mouse Mayhem 2 should be child’s play for a knight like you, Mr Knight Captain!”_

 

END FLASHBACK

 

Rouge laughed as she shook off the memory. “And then you spent three hours trying to solve that damn puzzle!”

Barnham flushed and opened his mouth – likely to spout some excuse – but he was interrupted by another voice. 

_“I see. My, how fascinating…No doubt this puzzle was originally created quite a while ago, is that correct?”_

Ever afterwards, Barnham denied all reports that he jumped four feet in the air. 

_“S-Sir Top Hat?!”_

The professor smiled, tipping his aforementioned hat politely. _“Indeed. And a good evening to you, Mr Barnham.”_

Rouge could hear the knight gulp. _“W-were you here this whole time…?!”_

The professor chuckled, coming up to the bar to take the mug of water the bar-owner held out to him. _“Not at all,”_ he said cheerily, _“I just arrived right now to get a cup of water…Hmm, but it does seem I’ve managed to arrive just in time to hear an **old story**.”_

Rouge chuckled at the flush spreading across the otherwise frozen knight’s face as she turned back to the professor, _“Heh…Anyway, where’s the rest of your motley crew gone?”_

Layton smiled in thanks as he sipped his water, _“Ah, yes. Mr Wright and the others appear to be sound asleep upstairs. They were all enjoying being together again after so long, they must have tired themselves out quite a bit.”_

Rouge chuckled again, **That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.**

Luke had been so excited to show off all the new puzzles he’d collected, and then Maya had dragged Phoenix into a competition to see who could solve puzzles the fastest, with Espella providing encouragement. 

**She was giving some snarky commentary, too. Maybe the Storyteller was right when he complained about her spending too much time here.**

Rouge turned her attention back to the professor, amusedly noting that Barnham seemed to have recovered somewhat from his embarrassment. _“Ah, all right. Well, glad to hear they’re doin’ fine.”_

Layton tipped his hat to her – **does he ever take it off?** – and turned to face Barnham. _“…By the way, Mr Barnham.”_

The knight startled, reflexively gulping at the other man’s pensive tone, _“Wh-what is it?”_

Rouge rolled her eyes at the other redhead’s nervousness, her lips twitching. 

_“Perhaps you could tell me how you obtained that **scar** I see about your left eyebrow…”_

Barnham blinked, caught off-guard, and Rouge crossed her arms, a grin making its way across her face. The knight straightened up before formally declaring, _“I received this quite some time ago. A most formidable **knight** gave me this old wound. ‘Twas not by his sword, but rather his small **fangs** that he gave me this injury.”_

Rouge rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, _“….Say, Mr Fancy Hat.”_

Layton turned his full attention on her, something Rouge could appreciate. Most of the time, the only way a man would give her his full attention was when he wanted another beer. 

_“Yes, Miss Rouge?”_

_“That little…story you just heard. Do me a favour and keep it under that hat of yours, okay?”_

She wasn’t sure why she wanted the professor to keep quiet about the story; it wasn’t as if there was anything embarrassing or incriminating about it, but all the same, she’d rather it went no further than the three of them. 

**Well four, if I count Constantine.**

The professor smiled, _“Why, of course, Miss Rouge. However…there is but one **condition**.”_

Rouge narrowed her eyes as Barnham looked on curiously, _“…And that is?”_

_“If you would do me the honour…of allowing me to take on the puzzle that left Mr Barnham stumped for three days…I speak of **More Chalices**!”_

Rouge laughed, smirked, and leaned forward challengingly, _“Well, well, well…looks like we’ve got ourselves another challenger.”_

“I pray that he has better luck than has befallen me,” Barnham said drily. “But I must be off now. I need to be at the garrison for the shift change. Good night Rouge, Professor.”

“Good Night, Sir Barnham.”

“ ‘Night Zacky-boy.”

Barnham grimaced and rolled his eyes at the nickname, tossing a wave over his shoulder as he exited the bar. Rouge grinned at his retreating back before turning back to the professor. 

“Alright then, Professor Layton. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes!”


End file.
